‘Bid our Queene remember what she did dreame
In her bedd wheras shee lay;
She dreamèd the grype and the grimlie beast
Had carryed her crowne away;
XXXII
‘Her gorgett and her kirtle of gold,
Her head-geare [all soe drest]
He wo’ld have worryed her with his tush,
And borne her into his nest.
XXXIII
‘Saving there came a little hawke,
Men call him a merlion;
‘Did strike him downe untill the ground
That dead he did fall downe.
XXXIV
‘Bidd the Queene be merry att her heart,
Evermore light and glad;
When bale is at hyest, boote is at nyest,
Helpe enough [shall be had’].
XXXV
Then the Queen’s messenger rode backe,
A gladded man then was hee;
When that he came before our Queene,
A gladd woman then was shee.